To Atone
by Emily Bones
Summary: Jessica Stanley saw something on a cold Edinburgh winter day that set off a chain of events that affected more lives than she could possibly imagine. Edward Cullen and Isabella Swan only wanted time. Unfortunately, time was the one thing they did not have. UP FOR ADOPTION
1. Prologue: Memoir

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or Atonement. **

**This is something I've been meaning to do for a while. Atonement is one of my favourite books and movies because I love the concept and storyline. If you haven't read the book, do so, you're missing out. **

**Sooo...this is sort of like a more modern interpretation of it in drabbles, more or less.**

**Hope you enjoy it!**

_Prologue: Memoir_

The past is not a straight line. She realised that now. Old as she was. Frail as she was. The past is definitely not a straight line. It is many lines, squiggly and jumbled, tangled into the most complicated of knots. Some lines converge and join while others split to form their own paths like rivers and tributaries. One line may effect the outcome of another, sometimes imperceptibly, sometimes noticeably. It all was relative.

The doctor had been very succinct. He'd explained it all very carefully and briskly, like a shopping list that needed to be attended to. He explained why she could not remember, why things were starting to fade and die. She knew then, sitting in that neutral doctor's room, with all its awards, certificates and efficient instruments that she needed to do what she had been meaning to do for years.

She needed to explain to herself. Maybe to the world, but more to herself.

She needed to know.

That was 5 hours ago now. The screen of computer glared at her from its position in the apartment. Handwriting became obsolete years ago now. The waste of paper and pencils were replaced by the cool efficiency of screens and keyboards. She hadn't held a pen in over 50 years.

She supposed it would have to do.

She winced her way to the cradling seat in front of the monitor. There was a flashing in the top corner of the screen: Bedtime. Bedtime.

She sighed, and clicked the little box closed. She was going to break the rules tonight. And to hell with it.

This needed to be done.

She massaged her dry papery palms and she flexed her gnarled fingers. Spasms of pain registered in her brain but she chose to ignore it. Pain wasn't the worst thing in this life.

She began to write.

**There, that's the beginning of it. You'll work out who this woman is after a few chapters, I promise.**

**Please review!**

**Bones x**


	2. Resentment

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or Atonement**

**Say hello to Bella...**

_Resentment_

The cold of an Edinburgh winter day hit Bella Swan like a wrecking ball in the chest as she stepped out that morning for school. Frost gilded the railings of the steps outside their flat and her breath came out in gossamer clouds. She pulled up her school scarf and walked briskly away from the flat she shared with her father and mother. Her boots thudded against the stone stairs and as she walked, her nose already pink from over the top of her scarf.

It was still dark, the moon looking pale and washed out as the sky streaked pale by the sunlight peaking over the crest of the hard lines of the rooftops of the Colonies. She tucked her fingers into her jacket pockets, her bag a heavy yet comforting weight on the place between her shoulder blades. The world had barely just started stirring. She heard the rumbles of cars against cobbles, the hack-hack of roadworks, the snaps and hushes of the bare trees.

She quite liked walking. Her father had made her do it since she was small and she found that the rhythm of footsteps gave and the steady way one could move allowed a space in her brain to clear and think.

She thought of a multitude of things. School mostly. Friends often. Memories sometimes.

On this particular morning, Edward Cullen chose to swim across her mind. As always, her stomach responded with a jumbled assortment of feelings, some of them unrecognisable. Some of them so strong they nearly obliterated the rest. Irritation. Awe. Hurt. Longing.

Edward Cullen. The clever, handsome, witty, arsehole. Bane of her existence, while being perfectly charming at the same time.

Bastard.

Beautiful bastard.

You're friends with him until you're 5, don't see him till your 13 and he ignores you from then on. Him and his elitist friends. Stupid class system.

Well, what do you expect? What's he supposed to say to his friends? 'Look, there's my maid's daughter. I used to play hide and seek with her when we were 5.'

They'd laugh at him. Those friends that have lords and CEOs for parents and have villas in South of France. Bella was just the girl who was supposed to clean their platinum toilets.

Unlikely for that now.

She was Potts Academy charity case. She had a music scholarship to the school that was described as 'The Eton of the North.' They didn't give out those scholarships for nothing. There were at most 5 in every year and they were the brilliant but poor types from 'eclectic' backgrounds, as the website put it.

Bit of a nasty shock for Edward when he saw her that first day.

Bella remembered with a shudder as he brushed aside her enthusiastic greetings and and pierced her with those bottle green eyes, "don't you have toilets to clean?"

That stung. Especially when his beautiful friends started to laugh. After a few days, she saw how much she didn't fit in. Nearly everyone at the Academy had posh English accents and would mimic her Edinburgh accent whenever she answered a question with cruel sneers. While they talked about their Spring's skiing in Val d'Isere and sunbathing in the Caribbean, Bella would reflect on the caravan holiday to North Berwick that she went with her parents. Everyone had Blackberrys and iPhones, while she still had her mum's old Nokia brick.

She didn't belong in Edward Cullen's world.

She had a feeling she never would.

So she stayed with the other scholarship kids, quietly studied in the library or her study and didn't attend the school functions.

As Edward put so eloquently on that first day, 'we move in different circles.'

Stupid charming twat.

Bella huffed irritably as she began to pass around the wrought iron school fence, enclosing an imposing gothic building with wide spreading lawns and a gravel car park.

A businessman, who died before the school was finished and was thus named in his honour, commissioned for it to be built in the 19th century. It was one of the many buildings that dominated the Edinburgh skyline and thus imposed its pretentiousness on everyone who lived around.

Bella sniggered to herself at that thought. Thinking bad of Potts Academy was like saying 'goddammit' in front of the Pope.

It's funny, because its true.

The junction outside the Academy was hectic as usual and she sneaked past the cars that were playing some twisted form of ballet and stomped up the main driveway before turning off right down towards the Science Blocks and Arnsbrae House. Arnsbrae House was part of 8 houses within the Academy, 3 girls, four boys and one 6th form house, the one Bella was headed to. It was supposed to promote independence as the last year headed to university. It had laundry rooms, a small library with computers, two common rooms and a large kitchen. Every boarder got their own room and day pupils like Bella got to share a study with up to three other people. The place was modern, with clean lines that juxtaposed next to the ornate old buildings. Bella pressed her thumb into the thumb scanner and waited for the beep and click. She had to do this 3 more times before the door finally beeped and clicked her through.

"Good morning Isabella," Mrs Goff, housemistress of Arnsbrae, smiled her Monday morning smile as Bella passed her in the foyer.

"Morning," Bella replied in passing before heading to the counter holding the signing in books. She asked the required question, "how are you?"

"Fine, thank you. And you?"

So polite. So bloody polite.

"Very well, thank you. Looking forward to the holidays." Christmas was just around the corner, barely four weeks away.

She couldn't wait. The combined stress of university applications, French orals, concert performances, piano recitals, essay deadlines and so much more had taken their toll on her. She couldn't wait to have just a few weeks to herself to recover before starting off again for her final exams. If she got the right marks she'd be off, preferably to a Parisian conservatoire to become the piano player she had dreamed of being since she was a little girl, listening to Rhapsody in Blue for the first time.

Bella Swan's future was bright indeed.

**...and Edward comes next. **

**Quite long for a drabble but...I don't care. :D**

**Bones**


	3. Collision

**And hello Edward...**

_Collision_

Meanwhile, two floors above Bella and her thoughts, Edward Cullen was reading over his Theory of Knowledge presentation, due for that afternoon. His mobile mouth moved as he formed the words and every now and then he would tug on his wayward hair in concentration, a trait he inherited from a long line of blue-blooded Cullens. He swung back on his chair, one hand dangling down so that it brushed against the sleeve of his Barbour jacket, which he had hung on the back of his chair. His Oxford clad feet were pushed up against the white drywall of his spacious room. Being Head Boy had guaranteed his chances of getting a good room and he was pleased with the result. It had a nice view of the playing fields, he had his Mac computer hooked up nicely to the school's Internet and he had decorated it with posters of his favourite bands, Indie-rock types, his own guitar sitting neatly in the corner, and a rather large pin-up poster of Eva Green. His folders and books were stacked neatly into the shelves next to his desk. Unlike most boys, Edward had a knack for keeping things neat and tidy and he liked his order. There was a peace to it.

He supposed that was what made him such a good Head Boy. Charming and amicable, he could make even the most timid of 3rd formers smile in comfort while asserting an air of authority. He still kept in with his friends within his social circle while keeping on good terms with the teachers. He kept up with his work without showing the signs of stress that most of his classmates were starting to show. He was good at balance, at equality.

This suited his choice of application. Medicine. A course that was measured, precise.

His future was bright too.

He clicked his neck and flexed his fingers before allowing his chair to swing forward with a thump. He got up and gave the presentation one last look. He was pleased with the outcome of his work. The presentation had a natural flow to it, without being too dull, a few jokes added in to brighten the topic while still managing to have a drive towards a strong conclusion. He preferred to work alone on such a thing, finding the intrusion of other minds skewed the outcome. He smiled triumphantly and tucked the presentation into the inside of his blazer, straightened his Head Boy tie, picked up his books for the next few lessons and left the room at a brisk walk. He had chapel duty to attend to, a reading to give, a prefect body to organise.

He flew down the stairs, ignoring the elevator, opened the door to the foyer and promptly crashed into Bella Swan.

"Bugger!" Bella, imbalanced as she was with her heavy bag, swore loudly and toppled to the ground. Edward managed to keep his books in his arms but the impact of the collision nearly had him fall over too.

Bella sat wincing on the floor, trying to get her bearings again so that she could cuss out the guy who knocked her over. "Swan? Are you ok? Sorry for knocking you over. Let me help you up."

She froze at the sound of _his _voice. It was unfortunate for Edward to come across Bella after she had been thinking such unsavoury thoughts about him. She glared at him and spat, "watch where you're going next time, Cullen!" She tried and failed to get up gracefully. She ended up staggering and grabbing the wall for support. She huffed, her face blossoming red before she eyed Edward's hand like it was a dead fish, "wouldn't want to ruin your perfect manicured hand with my peasant class filthiness." She stomped away before he could reply and slammed the door to her study, meeting the gaze of an astonished Angela. Bella hoped the slamming of her door and her outburst would dispel any humiliation she had suffered at the hands of Edward Cullen, but the sinking feeling in her gut told her that she had not.

Edward stood frozen to the spot, eyes glued to where Bella had disappeared. He had hardly thought of her these past few years, close to forgotten she had existed. After that first year in this vast senior school, he had dropped his tendency to bully the less fortunate, comfortable to stick with his friends rather than belittle the scholarship group. But after that particular encounter, Isabella Swan rose to the forefront of his mind again and he realised with surprise that Bella had changed without him noticing. That sparkle in her gaze and the defiance in her stance made the timid Bella from before shrink away into the distant past.

Bella, he realised, was a person.

This revelation may seem a little asinine. Obtuse even. But this is the same as when you realise that the person you have been sitting next to on the number 27 bus but have never talked to is a person with the same sort of thoughts and emotions as you, who also has the same complexities as you.

Such revelations can be quite shocking, as you realise this earth is far more complex than you first thought.

He shook his head, took a deep breath and carried on to chapel, a little shocked and a little perplexed.

**Oh Edward, so confuddled...**

**Bones x**


	4. Humiliation

_Humiliation_

By fourth period, the period of his presentation, Edward was quite himself again. He was confident in his presentation, in his execution of it, his poise. He was going to get the mark he needed. He had arrived with his usually group of friends; Jasper and Garrett and had checked that the PowerPoint he had constructed specifically for his point worked on Mr Banner's computer and showed up on the Smartboard. He sat languidly at the back, quite relaxed as he talked and waited with his friends for everyone to arrive. He was startled to realise that Bella was in the same theory of knowledge class as him. How had he not noticed? Surely she had been more vocal in their classes? Surely he would have noticed?

She hardly spared him a glance, sitting herself next to that fellow -what's his name?- allowing her books to splurge across the table. Edward glanced away from her, seeing that Mr Banner was already setting himself up to judge the presentations. Edward rose from his seat, a winning smile on his lips as he began to talk. For ten minutes, he talked on the knowledge issue of medical research and it's virtues and vices. He was confident and clear in diction, drawing out a chuckle here and there from his classmates in some moments and having them frown in thought in others. Every now and then, his eyes would slide to Bella, who sat, face blank, as he spoke. He was vaguely puzzled at this; surely she should show more interest, more thought? Maybe his earlier estimation of her had been inaccurate.

He was thus unprepared for the aftermath.

When he had finished with the conclusion that scientific discovery must endeavour through the cool examination of scientists unrelated to the test subjects and asked for questions, Bella's hand was the first to rise. Surprised, yet again, he said, "Yes, Swan?"

"What about the Stanford Case?"

He paused, gazing evenly into this intense brown eyes as he tried to work out what she was talking about, "the Stanford Case?"

She smirked, as if she had him in a trap, "yes, where a psychiatrist created an assimilation of prison, with himself as the warden and a series of university students as the guards and the inmates."

Relief flooded his system; he had heard of it before, "yes. What about it?"

Bella's smirk did not go away, "the psychiatrist became so much a part of the assimilation so he could not stop it when it went too far. He'd slipped into his role as the warden so well. It was only through the intrusion of his fiancé did he actually realise that the mental torture he was putting the inmates through was barbaric. Thus, scientists themselves cannot be the 'cool intellectuals'" she put quotation marks around his words, a spark of mockery in her gaze, "even when they are supposed to be the experimenter. Emotions are intrinsic to any person, no exceptions. How do you counter that?"

Edward was speechless. He stood, gaping at her, his brain scrambling for a solution but finding none. It was Mr Banner who eventually saved him, quietly admonishing Bella for such an outburst, reminding her that her questions were supposed to help the speaker, not hinder them. A hot blush tickled Edward's cheeks, heating his brow. He didn't like the feeling, even if Mr Banner assured him that his presentation was still exceptional.

He couldn't get over the fact that Bella had managed to tear down his entire presentation in one question. He sat at the back of the class, hardly paying attention to the other presentations after his. Bella continued to ask questions, but none of them nearly as pertinent as the one he'd been asked. As soon as the lesson was finished, she was up and out of her seat, leaving the yet unnamed boy to scramble in her wake. Edward frowned his way to lunch, irritating Jessica, his on and off girlfriend, whom he had promised to meet for lunch.

"What's with you?" she asked exasperatedly, as they sat by one of the many full-length windows.

"Nothing. Swan just being…" he trailed off, forcing himself not to look for her in the large dining room.

Jessica arched her eyebrow, her lip curling in a sneer, "What, the female NED?"

He winced internally at the cruel nickname but said smoothly, "she bumped into me this morning and completely fucked up my presentation for me."

Jessica scoffed, righteous irritation in her eyes, "Bitch is such a know-it-all. Thinks it makes up for the fact that she's bumming off the school, off our parents' money."

He nodded silently in assent, staring at the water in his plastic cup. Even with Jessica's estimation of Bella Swan, he still felt like something had not been solved. Bella was still an enigma in his mind, another thing to solve. He had solved many people, most of them his friends. Jessica, for example, he knew would never amount to much, poor girl. Not particularly intelligent or athletic, she was just another girl who went to this school with the merit of her parent's money and her patrician good looks. She will no doubt go to an adequate university somewhere, study a degree that will amount to nothing and marry some rich lord who she would be entirely dependent on. And she was completely content with this future.

But she would have preferred that Edward was this rich gentlemen to pick her up. He came Old Money, his family based in St. Andrews for nearly 3 centuries. He had the intelligence and looks that would get him fair in any field he wished to go into.

That, and he was a good lover.

Her eyes followed the line of his mouth as it frowned in thought, the yellow flecks in the deep green of his eyes, the strong jaw and chiselled cheekbones, the way his hair burned gold, brown, red.

She'd spent this last summer in his house in Elie in Fife, while his parents were in Dubai.

She remembered with a shiver the hushes of breath against her navel, the quick work of fingers against her skin, the slide of hair on her shoulder.

Yes, he was perfect.

And hers.


	5. Puzzlement

_Puzzlement_

Later that week, Jessica was in the gym, jogging on a treadmill facing out towards the indoor pool. Potts Academy's large and extensive grounds allowed it to rent a piece of it for a gym open to the public to be built on its land. In exchange for the land, the gym gave free memberships to pupils in their second and last year. Thus, Jessica used her card extensively, keeping her toned figure by jogging three times a week after her Pilate's class.

She always got the treadmill facing out to the pool; so she could watch the fit and lithe swimming team, mainly comprised of males, do their lengths. It also helped that Edward was in this very swim team.

_Fight for this Love _by Cheryl Cole came blaring across her eardrums as she watched Edward swing himself out of the water, beads of the stuff following the toned muscles of his back and abdomen. She watched with delight as he pulled his hand through his sopping hair and glanced at the large stopwatch on the, taking note of the time before diving under the surface again.

She sighed to herself and pushed herself to run faster, pounding away on the rapidly turning mat beneath her.

Life was good, she decided. Nothing could take away what she had, or what was destined to her.

It was at that moment that Bella Swan pushed her way into the swimming pool, her hair down, wearing a white skort and polo shirt, carrying her white plimsolls and socks in one hand as she sauntered barefoot around the pool, staring at the water avidly. Jessica watched with distaste as one of the female swimmers pulled up to the side. Swan paused and crouched, a wide smile on her lips as she began to talk to this swimmer.

Jessica tsked in irritation. Why must she ruin any peaceful moment she had? Stealing Edward's attention and his glory. Little bitch.

The two by now had finished talking and Swan was walking to sit on one of the benches by the wall, perhaps waiting for her friend to finish her session.

Jessica scowled and ignored Swan, choosing to focus straight ahead. Jessica knew her hatred for the girl ran deeper than just prejudice and anger at slights towards her boyfriend. Swan was…she carried an air of indifference wherever she went. She didn't seem to care about anything that made this school tick. The class system, the unspoken rules, the snobbery, the prejudice. She glided through it all with a devil-may-care attitude that cut right through all that Jessica had painstakingly followed for most of her life. And for that, Swan was a threat. She threatened to turn this world over, to make it collapse to its knees.

She glanced down again and nearly tripped when she saw Edward and Swan standing close by the pool edge. They're the only ones there, apart from the lifeguard who stared off into the middle distance, not paying attention to the two adolescents across from him. They appear to be arguing, Swan gesticulating while Edward scowls and retorts back.

At first, Jessica thought that Edward was giving what Swan deserved. She smirked in triumphant glee and watched in delight as Edward argued with a towel wrapped around his waist. Swan was red in the face, hissing as she placed her hands on her hips, brows furrowed, her shoes and socks forgotten on the floor.

But what happened next was so fast Jessica almost didn't catch it.

Swan turned as if to leave, but Edward reached out with his free hand, grabbing her wrist. She struggled, her spare hand slipping uselessly against his wet fingers. Her bare feet slid against the tiles and, like a tree just had been cut, she began to topple. Edward's grip slipped and he watched helplessly as Swan tumbled into the water. The splash was muffled through the glass but Jessica still heard it. Edward stood, frozen by the edg,e staring down to where Swan had disappeared, his fists clenched at his side. Eventually, Swan's head broke the water and she spluttered, wiping her hair away from her face. She heaved herself out of the water, her clothes sodden and dripping her hair forming a curtain around her face as she stood up. The lifeguard was about to get down and help but seeing that Bella was ok and out of the water made him stop and get back on his seat again, a puzzled look on his face.

Edward was still frozen by the side of the pool as Swan hoisted herself out of the pool. Her clothes stuck to her skin, rivulets of water running down her legs and dripping off the tips of her fingers. She pushed her hair back with a mustered dignity, shivering as Goosebumps puckered her skin. Edward only stared, his face still formed in shock. She said something, her face tensed as she spoke.

Edward nodded, finally looking away, spare fist clenched as Bella gathered her shoes and stalked off, head held high.

Edward did not watch her go, but his jaw was clenched. He ran his fingers through his hair and his chest heaved with a sigh.

Jessica stopped the treadmill, looking away to stare off into the middle distance. She gritted her teeth, wondering what the hell she had just witnessed. She considered texting Jane about it, but realised that this could be detrimental to Edward's reputation.

She was pretty sure that something like this had never happened in Potts Academy.


	6. Anger

_Anger_

Bella thwacked the oncoming squash ball, making it ricochet off her racket and smack against the back wall, bouncing down for Mike to scramble to return the ball.

Before the Academy, Bella was never very sporty. But being forced to do an hour of some sort of sport three times a week made her become more interested in sport. Especially squash. There was something wonderfully barbaric yet civilised in smacking a ball so that your opponent had to dance and twist for the retrieval.

That, and it looked good on her Duke of Edinburgh and UCAS applications.

As Mike stumbled so that he fell flat on his belly and thus missing the ball, Bella wiped her forehead and smoothed her hands over the white polo and skort she wore for playing squash. Her long pale legs ended in a pair of white simple plimsolls, her long hair tied back from her face. She spun her racquet and grinned at Mike on the floor, "Point to me?"

Mike muttered something in defeat and pushed himself up against the wall, "So *pant* Bella *wheeze* you going to the Ball?"

Bella cocked her eyebrow, sauntering over to her water bottle, "What Ball?"

"Y'know…the Winter Ball? At the end of this term? You going?"

Mike reminded her of a puppy. The one that considered peeing on your leg as a sign of affection.

"No, I don't do dances," Bella said brusquely, taking a swig of her water.

"Oh…well…"

Cute little puppy face. Adorable.

Even if she did go to dances, she wouldn't fuck a puppy.

Mike was still struggling for words, "I was just thinking…"

"Uh-huh, and I know what you were thinking," Bella said fatly, "why don't you ask Lorraine? She's had her eyes on you."

"Right…Lorraine, thanks Bella," Mike said lamely staring down at his racquet.

She glanced up at the clock, glad that the squash session was now over. She picked up her things and tossed a 'see you Mike,' over her shoulder before trekking out of the squash courts, loosening her hair out of her hair tie She made her way through the corridors and towards the swimming pool. She had promised Angela that she would meet up with her before they walked home together. Angela was another scholarship student who lived in the Colonies like Bella and they'd become good friends on the same day that Edward rejected Bella.

Bella left her things by the entrance and pulled off her shoes and socks before dangling them in her hand. She walked into the warm heat of the swimming pool, eyes on where the swim team were training. She looked for Angela and finally saw her practising her backstroke. The other girl grinned and swam her way to the side of the pool, "Hey Bella!"

"Ang, still a fish, huh?" Bella laughed, crouching down to talk to her.

Angela rolled her eyes but grinned none the less, "We should be done in a few minutes. Wait for me here?"

"Sure Ariel," Bella teasingly replied, standing tall again. As Angela kicked off with a laugh, Bella sat on the bench watching and listening to the swimmers go past. Eventually the coach dismissed them and Angela hopped out of the pool, with Bella handing her towel to her.

"You ready?" she asked.

Bella nodded, grinning, "Whatcha say to a Costa coffee before we head home?"

Angela hummed in delight, "Rocky-road cupcakes, yum."

"Swan?"

Bella and Angela span on the spot to be faced with a wet Edward Cullen, clutching a towel around his waist.

Bella's first thought was: do not look at his chest. Whatever you do, do not look at his chest.

"What?" she asked rudely, folding her arms across her chest in rebelliousness.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"No."

"Please?"

Bella huffed in irritation, staring at the boy with the hopeful grin.

Damn hopeful grin.

Not puppy like at all.

"Fine."

Angela murmured, "I'll just be in the changing rooms."

Bella nodded, too irritated to speak.

Once Angela had left Edward started to talk, "I…I want to apologise."

This startled her, "For what?"

"For any hurt I may have caused you."

"Caused me?"

Something flashed in his gaze but it was gone before she could catch it, "Yes…when we were younger. 13 year olds are not very bright and can do a lot more damage than they realise. And for that I'm sorry."

He seemed satisfied with this. He stood straight, his eyes stuck on her.

She never noticed before, but his eyes had gold flecks in them.

Pretty.

Odd.

"Oh…is that all?" Bella wanted to get away. Cullen should not be apologising to her. Not the Boy Wonder. It was making it awkward.

He now seemed irritated, "well…have you forgiven me?"

That sparked something in her, "and why would I forgive you?" she hurled out, dropping her shoes to the wet floor and not caring.

"Because I have just apologised for something I did 5 years ago. Don't tell me you can hold a grudge that long," Edward's nostrils were flaring as he spoke, fists clenched around his towel.

"Its going to take a lot more than an apology to have me forgive you," Bella retorted, her eyes beginning to sting as they always did when she got angry, "as far as I am concerned you're still a snobbish twat who thinks he's God's gift to men."

"I do not think that!"

"Yes you bloody well do. You swagger around this school as if you own the place. And everyone bows down to you because you're Edward Cullen. If you left the entire school would collapse in horror of your departure."

"Oh and I suppose that's worse than being a feminist trollop who reads queer literature and bemoans the capitalist patriarchal society in long essays that no one will read!"

"It is for your information, as being feminist trollop is far more enlightening than being some aristocratic slob who is going to life off his parents money!"

She turned, feeling triumphant in this argument but was not prepared for Edward's hand grabbing her wrist. "Let go!" she cried, spare hand slipping against his hand.

"I'm not done talking to you yet!"

"Let go!"

They struggled, battling against each other on the slippery floor of the swimming pool. Bella knew what was going to happen before it did. She felt her usual clumsiness take a hold of her, making her start to fall. Edward's grip slipped from her wrist and she was gone, collapsing into the shining blur water. Water forced itself up her nose making her cough and her nostrils sting. The shock of the tepid water forced her eyes closed and her limbs splay out. She forced her head up, gasping for air, a veil of hair sticking to her face. She pushed the hair out of her face coughing in shock and humiliation. She blearily saw Edward standing over her, looking just as surprised.

Gathering the remains of her tattered dignity she pulled herself up and out of the water. She finally stood, aware of the water dripping around her form, aware of how the air made her skin pucker. She shivered, water dribbling from her fingertips. All Edward could do was stare, seemingly frozen into place.

Chin up she said in an even voice, as water dripping off her chin and down the dip of her collarbone, "Is that all?"

He nodded stiffly, turning his head away in a seeming effort to give her space.

She gathered up her shoes and stomped away, head still held high as she tried to understand what had just happened.

The colder air of the corridor outside made her yelp and she ran towards the changing rooms, bare feet slapping against the linoleum before she crashed into the changing rooms.

"What the hell happened to you?" Angela was staring, half dressed in one corner, her gaze in consternation.

"Don't ask," Bella said flatly, heading her way to the hairdryers that were bolted into the wall as she tried to dry out her skort, "Just…don't."**  
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	7. Fantasy

_Fantasy_

Two weeks later, Edward stood in the spray from his shower, eyes closed as the hot water ran down his back, as he leaned against the tile, forehead resting against his forearm. He'd been avoiding her, as she was surely avoiding him. Every now and then, his stomach muscles would contract as a new memory would surface. That bead of water, running down between her collar bones. The hint of lace underneath the polo shirt. Wet. Her breasts could just about fill a hand and were set wide apart. A freckle on her upper arm, half covered by the sodden cloth of her polo shirt. As she had gotten out of the pool, there was a hint of darkness beneath her skirt, something that should have been obscure. Wet. A drop of water running down the inside of her calf, across the startling paleness of her skin. Her pelvic bones stretching the material of her skort, a hint of a smooth stomach, as her shirt rode up. Her toenails, painted a phone box red led to delicately formed feet. One jagged pearly white scar running diagonally across her knee. Not blemishes. Adornments.

He remembered the sessions of hide and seek. He remembered how Bella, with her musical accent and large eyes was more than willing to play rough and tumble with him and his brothers. She was the one who could conjure those games of pretend for pirates and thieves, in that big house with so many empty rooms. But when he went to nursery, she disappeared from his life and over the years he forgot her. When she returned, he was a nervous boy on the cusp of puberty, so desperate to fit in and be liked. At first, he was glad to see a familiar face. But then that familiarity turned to dread as he realised that in a place like the Academy, she was supposed to be beneath him. So he shunned her, earning her resentment and hostility within that first year. After that, Bella dropped out of his radar and he eventually forgot her again, until this week.

This was when Edward had his second revelation.

Bella was not just a person.

She'd grown.

He'd have to talk to her at some point. Explain his behaviour, why he'd done what he done. He shook his head, spraying water from his hair and groaned. He didn't know why he said the things he said. In truth he hadn't meant them at all. And the physical aggression…he'd never done that before. His mother had always inlayed the strict rules that a boy should never hit or harm a girl. But this burst of violence from him shook him. He didn't know where his control had gone.

She'd taken it with her.

There was an innocence in her attempt to remain dignified in an utterly undignified manner; sticking out her chin like a petulant child. Yet he loved her righteous fury glittering in those eyes, the outrage at him for his accidental humiliation of her. But in return, she had already humiliated him through the presentation earlier that week. She was not a passive creature, she was not totally sweet. She was a force, with the ability to push him under. Perhaps, perhaps she wanted more in her anger. Perhaps she wanted to show that glittering side of her, that would bind him to her while also punishing him by pushing him away: for accidently causing her to fall into that damned pool.

He growled in frustration and shut the shower off, stepping out and towelling himself down.

Yes, he needed to talk to her. Pulling on a pair of tracksuit bottoms and an old concert t-shirt, he sat down at his desk, using his towel to rub at his hair, before letting it drop to the floor.

Should he send an email?

No, too impersonal.

And he was too much of a coward to do it in person.

Handwritten letter maybe?

Taking a few sheets of clear A4 and a fountain pen he stared blankly at the sheets, wondering what to start with.

_Swan_

No, too formal.

Paper scrunched up and chucked into the bin.

_Isabella_

Still too formal.

Another scrunched up sheet.

_Bella_

Better.

_I must apologise for the way I acted last time we spoke. In truth, I did not mean any of the things I said or did. I have never acted in such a way before __–__ must be the upcoming exams!_

Such a flimsy excuse.

Another sheet of paper gone.

He leaned back in his chair and glared at the paper. He played around with phrases and words but they were either too silly or too formal, too jokey or too careless. Several drafts later, with much swearing and crumpled sheets, he still hadn't created the message he wanted. His fist curled and then spasmed out again and his teeth gnawed on his bottom lip. He glanced up at Eva Green, posing as she was next to a vanity in lingerie, a smoky look in her gaze that said 'come hither'. He tore his eyes away, his gaze landing on his open biology book, pages opened on a particular part of the female anatomy. The labels and clinical explanations blurred with Eva's provocations and before he could stop himself he leaned forward and wrote:

_Bella_

_In my dreams, I kiss your cunt. _

_Your sweet wet cunt. _

_In my thoughts I make love to you all day long. _

_Edward_

He stared at the words with a shocked awe before bursting out into sniggers, laughing at his own frame of mind.

There it was, another draft ruined.

Fucking hell. Edward Cullen was going insane.

It was like it unblocked something in his brain. He folded the paper and set it aside. He took out his final sheet and wrote:

_Bella_

_You__'__d be forgiven for thinking me insane for the way I acted last time we spoke. In truth, I feel quite lightheaded and foolish in your presence and I don__'__t think I can blame stress. Forgive me. _

_Edward_

There. He smiled in triumph and folded the paper, ready to be put into her pigeonhole the next day. He couldn't give it to her himself, he had to give her a chance to think things through before he might see her.

Things were going to be ok.

The next morning he reluctantly made his way to an early morning lesson so he managed to catch Jessica on her way to breakfast, "Jess, could you put this in Bella's pigeon hole? I've got an EML."

She stared mutely at the paper and nodded, taking the note. Edward smiled gratefully and whisked away towards his history lesson. It was only when he was in the class, listening to Mr Tanner's lecture to Italian Unification did he realise what he'd done. In his mind eye, he saw his desk, the discarded bits of paper, the books, the pens. The letter he'd meant to give to Bella and the one he'd meant not to give to her. He clenched his fist and fought not to bolt out of his seat.

He'd given her the wrong letter.

He'd given her the wrong letter.

He'd really buggered it now.


	8. Shock

_Shock_

As soon as Edward had left, Jessica unfolded the letter and read.

_Cunt_.

Her hands shook.

_Cunt._

She tried not to cry.

_Cunt._

She quietly folded the letter and slipped it into Bella's pigeonhole, like he asked.

She walked away without a word.

This was solvable.

This was no crisis. _  
><em>


	9. Incredulity

_Incredulity_

Bella had done her usual walking in routine, said her hellos to Mrs Goff when she saw the note in her pigeonhole. Thinking it was some reminder for homework, she picked it up and unfolded it, glancing at the contents.

Then she looked more closely.

Then she looked again to be absolutely sure.

"Jesus Mary and Joseph," she muttered, her father's blasphemy rolling off her tongue. She clutched the letter to her chest and glanced around the room, as if checking if anyone else knew. When she was sure that no one else could know, she then glanced down again and frowned.

This made no sense. They hadn't spoken since that day. Was it a joke? No, Edward didn't seem the type to joke about this sort of thing. Especially using that word. She glanced down again, a flush staining her cheeks as she reread the lines. _In my dreams…in my thoughts…_

So he thought about her. Bella couldn't help it. She giggled, like a 12 year old over her crush. She knew she should be outraged; she had every right to go to the housemistress and report it for sexual harassment.

But she found that she didn't want to and she didn't know why. She tucked the letter away into the small pocket sewn into her school kilt, where it burned against her hip. She looked around again; just to be sure that no one else had witnessed her.

She walked away silently, absently fingering the slit to the pocket.

The note set something off in her mind. All that resentment, all that longing had finally burst, like a water balloon. She was no longer sure where she stood, where they stood.

But a glow seemed to burn in her stomach as she walked for the rest of the day. She felt a head taller than everyone else, like she was walking on air._  
><em>


	10. Discovery

_Discovery_

Jessica used all of her intelligence to figure out what the note could entail. She thought about it when she should have been pondering the policies of the Labour Party in Politics and when she should have been paying attention in Pilates.

It occurred to her that it was probably just a joke. Boys did that sometimes. Especially to loser girls like Isabella Swan. She ignored the uneasiness in her stomach and decided that just to be sure, she'd have to talk to Edward. He'd laugh it off, kiss her on the lips and say how bloody hilarious it was. And that would be that.

She had trouble finding him though, as whenever she saw him he would whisk away out of her sight. In the afternoon she asked one of his friends where they had seen him and they said something vague about the music practise rooms. So, still in her skort and shirt she had been exercising in, she'd walked to the practise rooms. The sweltering heat of the practise rooms startled her on entrance, in great contrast with the frosty day outside. She trekked down the unfamiliar, empty hall, catching snatches of the musicians inside as they played.

It was only in the last room on the left did she finally see.

He was holding her, in a way that he had never held Jessica. Her dark hair was escaping the French braid on the back of her head. His seemed to shimmer damply in the low light above. Her hands were clasped behind his neck, his hands gripping the shiny black wood of the piano behind her, knuckles white. Their lips were tangled together, as he gripped the piano for support as he _thrust_…

_Stop!_

She pressed the door open, letting out a gasp of anguish, formed into the shape of his name.

"Edward!"


	11. Reconciliation

_Reconciliation  
><em>

Edward was in torment. He tried to look for her, to apologise, to explain. But he couldn't find her anywhere. He was also waiting for Mr Goff to call him into his office and reprimand him for harassing another student but it never happened.

He had to ask Weber in the afternoon, Bella's friend and she directed him to the music rooms. "She's been acting weird today," Weber noted, staring up at him from her desk.

He winced at that comment, thanked her and left for the Music Block. He stepped into the blazing heat of the building, which was always very warm and headed underneath the building to the practise rooms. He walked along the line of soundproofed rooms glancing in each window to try and find her.

And he did.

She was sitting in the last practise room, her fingers flying across the piano keyboard. He smirked when he saw the bag of sweets on top of the piano a few spilling out onto the lacquered wood. Her hair was tied off her face in a French braid, but wisps curled away from her face as she played with vigour. He knew about her music scholarship and heard that she was going to be the first Potts Academy female graduate to go on and study at Conservatoire de Paris. He strained to hear the notes fly from her fingertips, as she played something furious and storm like.

She was exceptional.

He gathered his resolve and knocked three times. Bella jumped, turned her head. She stared, her face unreadable before she motioned with her hand for him to come in.

He pushed open the door, entering the stuffy small practice room while closing the door behind him. "Cullen? What is it?" she asked, swivelling on the piano stool so that she could talk to him.

He tried small talk, "You're really good, y'know." He gestured to the piano, "what were you playing?"

She arched her eyebrows, giving him an incredulous look, "uhm…thank you?" she glanced back at the music sheets, "Rachmaninoff. Prelude in C minor."

"Ah…" Edward nodded. The silence was thick, humming, waiting for something to happen. Edward swallowed and said. "Bella…" That was the first time he'd ever used her first name in this place. Odd. "I wanted to apologise for that note I sent you. It was the wrong version."

"I guessed," she replied, shutting the keyboard away and leaning back against the piano, "what was in the version I was meant to read?"

"An apology and explanation…it was more formal, less-"

"Anatomical?"

He smiled sheepishly, "Yes…I hope you're not offended."

Bella's face began to flush, "no, I'm not and I haven't reported it either so you're safe."

"That's not what I came to check," Edward said hastily.

Bella's eyes became wide, "I know."

Another silence.

"Its been there for weeks," she said suddenly, worrying her bottom lip, "ever since the pool." She paused to organise the bits of whirling paper in a hurricane that were her thoughts. She wished she hadn't been playing Rachmaninoff. He always skewed her thoughts, always pushed her into a whirl of strong emotions.

Edward said nothing, watching her carefully, waiting for her to elaborate. He had a feeling he knew already. She pulled a deep breath, fingers fiddling with the hem of her kilt, "maybe even further back than that. But you knew first." To his chagrin, she pulled out the note, staring down at the folded paper before looking back up, "everything seems so different now. I'm even seeing everything differently now. Bumping into you, the presentation, the pool, this note, its all…" she let out a hysterical sound and he wasn't sure if it was laughter or a sob. She stood up, shoving the piano stool back with a scrape, and pulling shaking hands through her hair, the note dropping to the floor with a flutter "I can't ignore it anymore."

"It?"

Her eyes shone with something unreachable, untameable.

"You do know what I am talking about, right?"

There was a pause, as he thought it through, "Yes."

A tear, hot, wet and shining slipped down her cheek.

"Why are you crying?" he asked. His body was humming, humming with something just outside of his fingertips.

Laughter bubbled to her lips, but it was another hysterical sound, "Isn't it obvious?"

There was another silence, as something shivery and frail started to grow. Finally, Edward's resolve shattered. "Of course it is," he said before taking her shoulders and pushing his mouth onto hers.


	12. Passion

_Passion_

Her lips tasted of Vaseline and Starmix Haribos. They drew away for only a breath before their mouths met again, this time more confident. Boldly, their tongues brushed together and the feel of the soft wet flesh made Edward swallow Bella's sighing moan. That was what marked another change.

They were no longer childhood acquaintances.

The sound sizzled through both of them, shedding the skins that had coated them before. It was a greedy sound, pushing them to kiss the way they wanted to kiss.

He clawed ineffectually at her school jumper and she pushed his blazer off his shoulders, so it fell onto the floor with a soft _thlump,_ finger's tracing the seams of his waistcoat. He grabbed her thighs and pushed her up on top of the keyboard wordlessly guiding her feet to rest on the piano stool, Rachmaninoff falling to the floor in fluttered sheets.

They had to part, so Edward could pull the woollen navy blue jumper off Bella. They crashed together again, Edward kissing the fiery flesh of her neck as he nestled between her nylon-covered legs, his hands hastily untucking her school shirt so he could reach the soft hot babyish flesh underneath. She gasped at his cool fingers working their way up her back and along her sternum as he unbuttoned the white shirt. He swallowed that too as he moved his mouth to hers again and gently bit down on her bottom lip, tickling the bones of her spine. She broke away so that she could trail her lips across his jaw and up to his ear lobe, biting it delicately between her teeth.

With a fumbling carelessness, she ripped the waistcoat open, buttons popping and reached for the waistband of his slate grey trousers, flicking the button open and reaching in. He hissed when she finally wrapped her small hot hand around him, stroking up and down until he was trembling. While she was preoccupied, he deftly unhooked the bra and slid it down enough so that one blushing pink nipple became free before he clasped his lips around it, sucking it into his mouth. She gasped, tossing her head back to let out the gush of air, face flushed with the combined heat of the music rooms and the feel of Edward's skin rubbing against her own. His hands snaked up her thighs, found the waistband for her tights and pulled them roughly down, tearing the nylon. With a slower fervour, his fingers brushed against her wet sex. Her hands spasmed and she cried out a soft groan while pulling on his damp hair.

And at last, they were strangers; crossing a point neither of them thought they would reach.

It didn't matter that they could get caught. That Edward could lose his status as Head Boy and that Bella could be expelled. They were both too self-less to care.

The act itself was easy. He moved the knickers to the side and she clasped her hands behind his head as their foreheads met together, eyes locked to one another. He released his sex from his trousers and they did not break eye contact as he guided himself into her.

She gasped, biting her lip until she tasted the iron, but never tearing away from him.

They were frozen for what could have been days, hours, minutes, seconds. His name, his given name, floated from her lips and he brushed an escaped curl from her cheek. He loved the sound of his name from her mouth and said hers back, the word taking on a new meaning for him.

"I love you," she whispered, her breath hitching on the second word.

The world shifted, but he had a feeling this was the thing he already knew, "I love you."

They began to make love against the piano. The muffled silence of the music practise room allowed them to get lost, to be in peace. His hands were braced on either side of her head against the piano, as she held onto his neck. She felt the pressure build and knew he felt it too. She peppered his lips with kisses, humming against his chapped hot skin. His chest rumbled in echo.

He was getting close to toppling into the unknown when she stiffened imperceptibly, pulling away as far as the piano would allow, her head turned towards the door.

"Someone's there!" she hissed, her body taught. He frowned but then heard it, the tell tale creak from the door and the torrid gasps of someone eavesdropping. He turned back to Bella, whose eyes were glittered with fury, tracing a finger from her brow down to her cheek. She kissed him then, and he tasted the blood. Determined to finish what he started he gave one last thrust, capturing Bella's surprised moan at the sparks of pleasure it brought.

"Edward?"

His name was gasped and Bella stiffened, breaking her mouth from him. She looked down, her cheeks flushed and he watched a bead of sweat shimmer on her collarbone. He silently pulled out of her, instantly missing her heat while carefully covering her body from view. She buttoned up her shirt quickly, clipped the bra into place, and pulling her ruined tights up with trembling fingers before she finally slid daintily to the floor, her school shoes clunking onto the wood as they dropped down from the piano stool. With an efficiency that startled him, she gathered up her music, jumper and coat and exited the practise room without another word exchanged between him, her footfalls echoing down the corridor. He stood straight, pushed his hair back before picking up his blazer and tossed it over his shoulder, pushing past the intruder without another word.


	13. Revenge

_Revenge_

Jessica was frozen by the door, unwilling to move. This couldn't be happening to her. Not to _her_. Jessica Stanley, whose parents always gave her what she wanted, who'd never been told 'no'.

Her world was starting to crack.

And it was up to her to fill in the cracks.

Despite Edward's assumption of her intelligence, Jessica was technically not a stupid girl. She just only knew how to apply her intelligence in certain ways.

One, was to manipulate the boys into her bed.

Two, was to cause the downfall of those who wronged her.

Blinking her stinging eyes, she glanced around the room, looking for something, _anything_, that might serve a purpose. Her eyes snagged on the white slip of paper, lay forgotten on the floor. She hurried over and picked it up, her lips twitching when the contents were revealed. Tucking it into her bra strap, she rushed back to house, the letters, words, sentences beginning to build up in her mind.


	14. Torment

_Torment_

She was insane. Clearly. Absolutely off her nut. What the _fuck_ was she thinking?

Bella tapped her pen on her notepad, burning holes into the English essay she had been failing to write for the past 30 minutes. The quiet of the library surrounded her; she listened with an impatient air to the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall, the rasp of paper against the wood of tables, the quiet hushes of breath of other studying teenagers.

She clenched her fist, watching her knuckles whiten around her pen.

She decided that memories had no purpose. They only distracted.

The smell of his sweat, smeared across her collarbone.

The way his hair glimmered gold and red in the gold light of the practise room.

The brand of his hand on her lower back.

The heat of him. Around her, outside of her, _in her_.

She snarled underneath her breath and dropped the pen with a clatter, causing several nervous 5th formers to stare at her.

That was yesterday now. She hadn't slept a wink. She now knew that everything she had read about love was completely false.

It wasn't gentle or easy. There are no butterflies or gentle heat in the stomach.

It bowled you over and held you down, making it impossible to think, to breathe. It was like a disease. Clawed underneath your skin and settled there, infecting every organ, every cell until the entire body is consumed with scolding fire.

It exhilarated and terrified her at the same time.

Someone sat down next to her and carefully started unstacking his books, setting them out neatly next to her chaos of papers and pens. He cleared his throat and said lightly, "Hello."

The fire peaked and Bella glanced up through her lashes to see _him_. He smiled slow and wicked, peering over her shoulder. "_Duchess of Malfi_," he hissed through his teeth, "I am not envious."

She did not speak, partly because she knew she would embarrass herself. Face pink, she nodded, gently picking up the pen again and started to write again while breaking eye contact. He sighed and opened his own books.

They were quiet for a while. The silence weighed heavy on her and her temperature soared, her heart beating a tattoo against her ribs. He was so close to her, she could smell his cologne, his sweat.

How was she supposed to concentrate on divine providence in _Duchess of Malfi_ when he was sitting next to her? So close and yet so far. If she was to move her left hand a little to the left, her pinkie could brush one of his knuckles, his hand relaxed on the table as it were. Some perilously reckless part of her urged her to do it, to push across the wood of the table and take his hand in full sight of everyone: of the annoying librarian, the stupid fifteen year olds and the smelly boys who game on the computers. Fear gripped her in that moment though.

She knew what people would say. That she was doing favours. That he was paying her money. That it was all lies, all a trick. What was the phrase? Wham bam, thank you ma'am.

God help her.


	15. Organise

_Organise_

She took a shuddering breath and Edward glanced at her, wondering what she was thinking about. Unbeknownst to her, he'd been watching her out of the corner of his eye for 5 minutes now. The way her pen scratched across her page or how she'd huff or tuck a curl behind her ear, wishing he could do it for her. He wondered what she was frowning about. It wasn't the essay. Isabella Swan doesn't frown over essays. She frowns over things that genuinely worry her. What worried her? Could he take it away? He wished he could touch her, over the top of the table but there seemed to be an invisible pulsing barrier between him and her, something that stopped him from touching that skin he remembered from yesterday, a tendril of that hair. Just one thread.

The group of goofy fifth formers finally left and Edward saw his chance.

Bella almost screamed when she felt his hand on the top of her knee. She bit down on her tongue and gripped her pen so hard she was surprised it didn't shatter. He trailed his fingers delicately over the inside of her knee before circling upwards in casual swirls to where her kilt rested on her thigh. Liquid heat began to build in her veins and she expected her heart to suddenly burst out of her chest with the rate it was beating. She glanced at him covertly from under her lashes, but he appeared to be fascinated in the book he was studying, his hand starting to inch higher with each swirl of his fingers.

Out of the corner of his eye, Edward watched with delight as Bella's face flushed a delicate rose pink, her hand quivering as she wrote. A flash of white teeth as she bit down on her lip. Her thigh was hot underneath her tights and he fancied that he could feel blood rushing under his fingers. Isabella Swan, hot and flustered, was a sight to behold.

He gradually pushed the kilt material up higher, the skin getting hotter the higher he went. Bella squeaked when he brushed the line where her thigh joined her body, delicately tracing the trimming of lace on the knickers she'd put on that morning. She snatched at his hand, pushing it down again before hastily scribbling a note on a scrap piece of paper and passing it to him:

_Not here._

He smirked and quickly wrote back:

_Where?_

The question took her by surprise and it was a while before she responded. They were still staring at their respective work, not daring to look at the other in case they gave themselves away.

Bella suddenly scrawled something before tossing it onto Edward's work. Without another word, she got up, gathered her books and walked briskly away, leaving Edward with her note. She congratulated herself on being so calm. Queen Elizabeth would be proud.

Quickly Edward unfolded it and read it underneath the table.

It held an address and a time. That Sunday, afternoon.

He smirked at the last words on the note paper.

_Don't be late, Cullen. _


	16. Covet

_Covet_

Royce King leaned languidly back, watching the young and beautiful Rosalie Hale laugh with her friends at dinner that very same day. For a fifteen year old, she certainly looked old for her age, curls of long golden hair, tousled as is the fashion in Potts Academy. Large violet-blue eyes, thickly fringed with dark lashes, long enough to not really need mascara. A pretty pink mouth, naturally formed into a little bow. Her skin was a combination of pink rose petals and cream, as Rosalie Hale did not layer her skin with garish bronzer like most fifteen year old teenagers. Her minimal make up made her complexion naturally clear and bright, soft to the touch. She wore clothes that were innocent but enticing: snug jeans, fur boots and a long sleeved grey cotton shirt that had the first three buttons undone to give a tease of pliable smooth breasts.

Royce was becoming uncomfortably hot and aroused as he watched her covertly from his table of seventh year friends, imagining her and those pretty eyes all to himself.

After dinner, he caught up with the girls as they left, tapping a hand on her shoulder.

Rosalie span on the spot and blushed prettily when she saw him, a popular 7th year student, captain of the rugby team and complete heartthrob. For a fifth year girl to be approached by one such as him was the equivalent of being approached by one of the British Royal Family. He smirked and proffered a hand to her, "Rosalie, right?"

Her friends tittered and she blushed even deeper. He actually knew her name! "Yes, but everyone calls me Rose," she said, her poise mimicking that of Audrey Hepburn, but her eyes glittered with a childish excitement.

Royce smiled, slow and triumphant, "beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

More titters. More blushing. "Thank you, R-Royce."

His smile changed to that of pretend delight, "you know my name?"

The friends were starting to disperse, casting gleeful and jealous looks to the pair outside the dining hall. Rosalie chewed on her lip, glancing down at her shoes, "how can I not? You won us the Calcutta Cup."

He laughed raucously, "that I did!" He took her chin and made her look up into his equally blue eyes, "take a walk with me and I'll tell you about it. And maybe, I could find out more about you. Pretty girl like you bound to have a story to tell, hmm?"

Rosalie couldn't believe her luck. Here was Royce King, a celebrity in this school, asking her for a walk! In a school where male and female fraternisation was so closely scrutinised, this was practically a date. And she had one of the most sought after men asking her for one.

She nodded vigorously, and they began to stroll together towards the Beaches, a series of grassy banks along the playing fields of the school.

Royce smiled in secret triumph. He only had to be patient now.


	17. Converge

_Converge_

"Beeeelllllaaaa," Edward whined, "Come back to bed. I'm cold."

"All right your lordship, don't get your pants in a twist," Bella hollered back, as she brewed tea in the tiny kitchen she shared with her family. The Swan parents were out visiting family in Aberdeen, so weren't likely to be back until evening. Bella had feigned homework so that she didn't have to go.

Bella poured the steaming, boiled water into chipped mugs, the water turning amber. She pulled the fridge open, pulling out a glass bottle of milk and setting it on the side, waiting for the tea to stew. She rubbed her arms gingerly, goose bumps forming as she was only wearing Edward's t-shirt and a pair of knickers. It had been an afternoon of giddying freedom. No fear of being caught. As soon as Edward had opened the door, Bella had taken him by the collar and pulled him in, slamming the door behind him, her mouth falling on his with a delirious giggle from her and a playful growl from him.

And now here she was, brewing the aftermath tea. She sniggered at the thought, drained and threw away the tea bags, slopped milk into the mugs and carefully carried them to her bedroom.

Two weeks ago, if she'd been told that she'd have Edward Cullen sitting in her bed waiting for tea, she'd have told them dryly tell them to stop taking crack.

She leaned against the wood of the doorframe, mugs in hand, cocking an eyebrow at Edward, who lay in amongst her rumpled floral sheets, propped on pillows. The duvet was tucked around his waist and he was grinning a warped smile.

When he saw her, he said, "What are you waiting for Isa?"

He'd started calling her by her childhood nickname again. She liked it, in an odd way. He was the only one who ever called her that. It was therefore quintessentially theirs. No one could take it from them.

She proffered the mugs, grinning impishly, "You spill tea on my duvet and I'll kill you."

He pseudo saluted her, mock sombreness on his handsome face, "Aye-aye captain."

She treaded forward, toes splaying slightly on the creaking floorboards. He took one mug from her as she began to walk on her knees across the bed and then tucked herself in beside her, careful not to slop the tea.

It was natural for him to wrap an arm around her, like they'd been doing this for years. "I like your room," he said, his eyes falling on the music posters and clippings tacked to her walls. It was perhaps a little too messy for his tastes: piles of discarded clothes and sheets of music littered the floor, and there appeared to be no clear form of order to the things that had a semblance of organisation but it suited her.

"Thanks," she said absently, "I didn't tidy it or anything. You're not that important."

He snorted, "I can see that."

She pouted, gazing up at him with sparkling eyes, "cheeky."


	18. Request

**I do not own Twilight or Atonement. **

_Request_

"You going to the ball?" he asked her, testing the waters. His arm was wrapped around her waist, hand resting delicately against her hip.

She shrugged, "Maybe. Depends."

"On what?"

She grinned. She had him. She knew it from the tone of his voice. She just had to be sure first before acting next.

"On…things," she said casually, wanting to see how far she could wind him up.

Edward cocked his eyebrow at her, wondering where this sudden behaviour had appeared. "What things?"

She giggled taking another sip of her tea and snuggling closer to his chest.

_Minx_, he thought, trailing his lips against her hairline, his free hand moved from her hip to her cheek, gently brushing her cheek with his hardened fingertips.

"I want you to come," he said, kissing her temple, "I want to see you there."

It wasn't a direct request. They both knew that was not an option for them. Things would be said, reputations would be sullied. It didn't seem worth it so close to the end of their school career. And in truth, the secrecy excited them. It was so classically romantic. Very Romeo and Juliet. Tristan and Isolde. Paolo and Francesca.

Bella felt light and warm in that one moment. She had heard from other girls about moments like this. It wasn't that she had never dated before. There had been her next door neighbour Jake when she was 15 and Riley after that. But she had never felt like this with either of them. Not this…floaty. Yes, floaty was the word.

Feigning boredom she shrugged again, "I suppose I have to go then."

He grinned and stoked her hair behind her ear, "that's my girl, Isa."


	19. Quiet

__**I do not own Twilight**

_Quiet_

The end of term drew near and the prefects in charge began to plan for the Winter Ball, as was tradition every year. The whole school was invited, and it was the only topic of conversation for the whole school. What people were wearing, who were they going with, whether this time the 6th former on decks would be any good, how long they'd have to do ceilidh dancing before the actual disco.

Prefects gathered and scattered, gathered and scattered again and again to plan the décor, the food, the drinks, making sure girls don't get pregnant and alcohol aren't circulated.

Therefore, Bella and Edward did not see that much of each other over the next few weeks. They'd pass each other in the halls, sometimes, if they crossed close, hands would brush in tiny electric moments, eyes would meet only briefly, lips would twitch.

Late at night, when in their respective beds, they would be clinging to their phones, sending texts all through the night, smothered giggles and hushed sighs their only soundtrack.

That's the thing about love. The kind shown on TV is usually loud and bright. Burning across your screen like a firework as you sit numbly in your chair. But this love was quiet, alive, almost unseeable if you didn't know what you were looking for.

That, in my opinion, is the best kind of love.


	20. Rumour

_Rumour_

Jessica Stanley, Lauren Mallory and Elisa Boyd were all taking pictures off of Lauren's iPhone, pouting and smiling stylishly as they tried to copy the poses of girls in _Cosmopolitan_. They were beautiful in the way young girls are, their dresses jewel like in their colours of vibrant red, yellow and purple.

Jessica had slipped the note into her purse, now never without it. She carried evidence of his unfaithfulness, of how incredibly human he was about with him wherever she went. She had told no one, _no one_. No one could know that he'd made a fool of her, that bitch Swan had usurped her.

So while Lauren and Elisa gossiped about who was going with who, she had given out the idea that she and Edward were taking a break and they were going separately. And all the while, Jessica stewed, waiting for that perfect moment to ruin everything.

Lauren tossed her hair over her shoulder, adjusted her cleavage and cocked an eyebrow at Jessica, "where's the hipflask?"

Jessica nodded over to the bed, to the hot pink hipflask that proclaimed 'Everybody loves a drunk girl' in flowering white script. Lauren took a swig and after passing to Elisa said, "Royce has moved in on that girl in 5th form."

Elisa laughed, "He is such a pervert. Don't know why the younger years appeal." She screwed up her face, "5th formers are so…gross."

Jessica had taken a swig and the pleasant sting in her throat made her voice hoarsey, "Have you seen Rosalie Hale? She's a total sprouter. Fuck that, she's sprouted. Totally fit."

Lauren rolled her eyes, "and a total prude. Thinks she's the shit since Royce asked her out, but she doesn't know she's one of many." She giggled, loving the whole soap opera, "silly cow."


	21. Leaving Fanfiction

Dear Readers,

Really sorry to break this to you, but I'm quitting fanfiction. As you guys well know, I haven't been writing a lot for this account and my other account on TWCS. Here's why:

When I first came onto this site, I was 15, pretty lonely, not hugely self-confident and just looking for a place to post my early writings without being judged too harshly. Looking back, its only now that I realise how unhappy I was. Fanfiction and books were a sort of escape from school. Since then, I've had a huge amount of fun, met a lot of wonderful people, grown in confidence in my writing and realised my own potential.

I'm now 20; I've left school, started university and thinking about what I want to do with my life. I'm not the same girl who posted my first tentative story and waited anxiously for the reviews. I am so happy and confident now. I have friends that I love and I'm learning about things I'm actually interested in. This is the best point of my life so far. The more I've grown in happiness, the less I need to escape. I hope you all understand.

This doesn't mean I want to stop writing. That is still a huge part of me. I want to focus more on my original stories and characters. I have a head full of ideas and I have dreams of being published. So watch out! You might pick up a novel of mine one day.

The bottom line is: I've grown out of fanfiction. It's not as big a part of my life as it used to be and I don't think I can pretend to myself anymore. It's not fair on you guys, my readers. You all deserve an author that's still invested in her stories and updating regularly.

I'll be leaving my account up and I'm putting all of my stories up for adoption. If you're interested or know of someone else who might be interested, message me (never done this before, so not sure how I'm gonna continue after that).

Finally, thank you all so much. I can't express how much this site has been a comfort to me, especially through the days when I didn't think that much of myself. Fanfiction was more than just a pass time for me; it was a way of experimenting with my writing style and ideas. I couldn't have asked for a more supportive response. You guys were awesome and I thank you so much for being patient with me through the shitty update timing, the Lolclan incident and my moments of crazy insecurity.

This place was a huge part of my life as a teenager and I'll always look back with fondness.

I wish you all a happy life and all the best in what you intend to do.

Lots of love,

Emily Bones


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